“Hey, look at me,” he words crept into the darkened room. His hand sweeping my chin to face him. Through the pulsing wave of drunkenness and the thick night time air, I could still see his green eyes, the crease where his dimples carve into his face, and the way the corner of his lips tug to the side before he is about to say something.

“I love you,” he said.

Closing my eyes in a smile, a warmth spread through my chest. A relief. A verification that maybe my life can be this perfect.

“I love you too,” I replied, kissing his face.

It took no thought for me to give this promise, because although he may think that he was the one that said it first, I have been repeating it to him this past month. I whispered those words as his head rested on my chest. I whispered them when he brushed my hair out of my eyes and kissed my forehead. I whispered them when I realized that I have never been this truly happy in my life.

“It’s been so long since I’ve been this happy,” he slurred into my cheek, kissing my skin. He had no idea.

your lips lost their taste
trailing on the breath
of the brown-haired girls

but they all look like me,
so, close enough.

my fingertips pulse blue and black and all feelings flow away to nothingness. the air that bites my face with razors reminds me of how much pain I hold while being completely and consumingly numb. there is a hole in my chest and blood gushes, trying to making up for the vacant space.
will winter give me his arms, carrying me to sleep? will his lips give me the words wedged in unused  vocal chords? I am missing something and am devastatingly alone.
he left early with the sun and I long for him as a summer day. I possessed nothing but the company of the dark. as time passed, I finally appreciated the company of stars.

coffee rings flood the
rivers on the maps.
the number of lipstick-stained
cigarettes document the miles
under our feet. buttoned shirts
and greasy hair. letting only
the stars tell the time.
the world seemed infinite through
the mirrors. possibilities thrived
in the towering trees and the
deep green of life.
your hand in mine,
where it was always meant to be.

his lips made scars bleed
fingertips traced over the
pocket knife, the razor blade.
his blue eyes clouded my heart
and it sunk into the graves
of silenced words and emotions.
his tears wrapped around my lungs
and stole the comforting lie
from my tongue.
I wanted to run. to join
substance with the chair
or drift away with the air
just so he couldn't look
at me anymore. to remove
the sadness from his eyes.
but I stayed there, visible,
where he could see me.
he could finally see me.

I found the one
that took away my sadness:
all I ever had.

that helped me realize
there is so much more.

I think I'm becoming a sociopath.
I know I should be scared
but I'm not.
I can't feel anything.